Running Again

For days and weeks and months,
I just sat.

Like a lazy bum, I sat and stared and never moved;
I also drank a lot, and smoked,
alone,
on my windowsill.
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And then the day came when the winter months were over…
…and my alibis began repeating themselves;
all of this,
simply,
needed to stop!
And so last week,
with that eager ray of sunshine,
I got out of my chair, put my trainers on, and started
running.
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First, I ran around the corner, and the next, and the next.
Then I got to the river, crossed it, and entered the next little town.
I looped around playgrounds and grocery stores and pensioners’ homes.
I ran and ran and never stopped, couldn’t, didn’t want to.
At dusk, I began slowing down and eventually, made it back home.
I’ve been running since.
I’m not running to get from here to there or to some four.
I’m running because that’s when I feel it,
my breathing,
my momentary winning against time
and fleeting deception of mortality.
Maybe I’ll see you out there,
on the road.